One Mistake
by Sati James
Summary: One mistake. That was all it took to change the fate of twelve worlds and two species. John Cavil may have a plan. But he has never learned just how good humans are at screwing them up. Short Story/Oneshot in three chapters
1. One Mistake

Disclaimer: I do not own Battlestar Galactica.

* * *

**Chapter One: ****One Mistake**

**Picon – Two Months Prior to the Attack on the Colonies**

One mistake. That was all it took to change the destiny of twelve worlds and two races.

As he hurtled towards the ground he cursed himself in every language he knew. Wondered how he ever thought he could have made that catch, wondered how he could have risked so much for a fracking game, wondered how he was going to explain his many intercessions to the gods, wondered if the hole in his soul would finally be filled by death.

His head hit the floor and despite the blinding pain he thought for a fleeting moment that he may survive. Then the weight of the rest of his body slammed down on him.

His neck snapped.

The game came to an abrupt halt as medics rushed into the arena and the crowds screamed in denial but it did no good.

Samuel T Anders was dead.

* * *

**The Colony – Two Months Prior to the Attack on the Colonies**

Awareness slammed back into Samuel T Anders brain.

_WHAT THE FRACK?_

The pyramid player thought as he realised he was naked in a black bathtub filled with a slimy clear goo.

_WHAT?… HELP!_

He moved to stand and then sank back as memories crashed into him.

The heat washing over him, burning him as a new star flared briefly into existence over the city.

Waking up in their orbital laboratory, the Earth burning below.

Setting out in one of the few remaining ships with his four fellow researchers, the ones who had finally recreated the organic resurrection technology lost in the flight from Kobol and the 12 tribes of man who exiled them.

Retracing their ancestors steps back to the homeworld and then their parents steps to the Cyrannus system.

The despair of finding that their warning would come to late, that the 12 Colonies had created mechanical servants and that they had rebelled against their human masters.

The deal that they made with the rebelling cylons. They would stop the war and leave the humans in peace and he and his fellow researchers would help them create human form cylons.

The creation of the new raiders, hybrids, baseships, centurions and human form cylons.

The betrayal of model one and the death of model seven.

_Daniel Jackson, my child, I'm so sorry, so so sorry that we failed to protect you. You were the first amongst our children, our greatest achievement and for that you were murdered. You died because we committed the cardinal sin and loved one child more than the others._ Fighting back tears Sam forced himself to carry on reliving his memories, the pain of Daniel's death still raw, as it always would be.

Their horror when they found out what John had done.

The fear and panic as John locked them in the control room and pumped out the atmosphere.

Sam looked down at his hands, remembering them bloody and torn, the bone poking through his finger tips where he had tried to claw his way through the walls, out to where the air was as John watched, smirking. Telling them he was going to teach them a lesson.

As the rush of memories finally ended Sam finally sat up and took stock of his surroundings. He was in a small room, clearly secure in the centre of the colony as he could still recognise the architecture. His resurrection tank was one of five that were there, the others held copies of his friends from Earth, looking exactly the same as the day John killed them. Quickly Sam tried to figure out his eldest child's plan.

_He wants to be the first amongst our children, he wants to be the favorate. Killing Daniel removed the one he saw as taking that away from him but__ he never liked how human we had made him so how would he do it? Unless? Ahh he had to kill us so he could send us to the colonies where he hoped our experiences as humans would break us before we died, then we would wake up here, apologies spilling from our lips, and tell him how he was right. _

Sam snorted. _He has forgotten that while our ancestors were machines in the 2,000 years of Earths civilisation we abandoned resurrection and were born, lived and died. He has forgotten how human the Kobolian psilons became._

Sam was the planner and theoretical mathematical of the group, in pyramid nothing had pleased him more than working out the maths of the perfect shot and then making it happen. Now he swung into action to counteract John's plan before he could do any more damage.

Quickly Sam climbed out of the tank, sparing only a brief glance for the bodies of his friends still lying in theirs before searching for the interface in the room. He quickly padded over using his hands to try and clear the worst of the resurrection gel off his face and out of his hair. The water droplets fell down strings suspended in the ceiling into the pools at waist level.

Hesitating only for a moment Sam placed his hands in the pools and once more swam in the stream. The data and knowledge of the cylon race filled his consciousness fully available to him in this room, though the blocks that John had put in preventing certain data from being accessible to everyone else were immediately noticeable.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief as he realised the override protocols were still intact. These protocols gave the ones the cylons knew as the Final Five complete control over cylon systems and no one could overrule them, not even John. When he killed them he'd had to physically sever every data linkage to the control room so that they couldn't simply turn the air back on or open the doors.

With a deep shudder Sam locked the environmental system on and then sealed all entrances and entrance corridors to the room before taking stock. It appeared that only two cylons, both model ones knew the truth about the Final Five. The original John and the second of that line to reach maturity whom the first had persuaded to help. The rest had had their memories erased and the information blocked from the stream.

Searching through the stream Sam franticly tried to discover their location before sighing with relief. The second one was aboard a baseship, while no doubt up to many many things that Sam and the others would disapprove of he was at least several dozen light years away and it would take him days to get to the colony even pushing the basestars hybrid and engines to their limits. John was aboard the resurrection hub which was randomly jumping around the galaxy with its own dedicated escort ships. With the constant disruption to the stream as they lost and then re-established communications after every jump it would be some time before he detected Sam's presence in the system.

Noting that the hub had jumped just before he made that stupid stupid attempt to catch an impossible shot in the area on Picon and had not yet re-established contact Sam searched the colony's outgoing communications and found the triple red flagged alert to John that one of the Final Five had resurrected ahead of schedule. Silently wondering what schedule they were supposed to die to Sam erased the message guaranteeing himself a little more time to put his plan into effect.

Cutting off the colony and her escort baseships from the rest of the stream in a manner that could easily be mistaken as disruption from the black hole they were orbiting swallowing an exceptionally large piece of stellar debris Sam stopped hiding and let the hybrids feel his presence. Wonder and joy exploded into the stream as the hybrids felt the presence of one of the Final Five. Sam smiled and sent orders to the hybrids who controlled the colony to initiate a total lockdown promising he would come and meet them soon. Then he summoned four centurions to his resurrection chamber releasing the lockdown just long enough for them to come to him.

He had a great deal of work to do.


	2. Turning the Tide

Disclaimer: I do not own Battlestar Galactica.

* * *

**Chapter Two: Turning the Tide**

**The Colony – Two Months Prior to the Attack on the Colonies**

Sam opened the door just long enough for the four new model centurions enter before quickly closing it again.

"Hello." Sam said waiting for a reaction.

The centurions did nothing. Frowning Sam tried again. "Do you understand me?" he asked calmly.

"BY YOUR COMMAND." The lead Centurion replied in the monotone of its ancestors.

Sam felt his heart break. The Model 042 was the culmination of their mechanical work just as the 7 humanoid models were the culmination of their organic work. The Centurions were as much his children as the human forms.

"What has he done to you?" Sam hissed with repressed rage at his eldest child's actions. He carefully checked every inch of the Centurion looking for something that had not been in their original design.

"There." Sam murmured absently. "There it is."

It was a panel that had not been part of his original design. The Final five had had different strengths and this had shown when they created the new Cylons. Sam was the planner and theoretical mathematician of the group and unsurprisingly this had made him very artistic. Even as a human he had heard music occasionally, music he now knew he had composed on his beloved guitar for his girlfriend before the holocaust on Earth. As such while Galen had designed how the mechanical Cylons actually worked and what they were made of Sam had designed how they looked. Thankfully that had given Sam a little head start in looking for something out of place.

Sam's fingertips finally found what he was looking for. The panel was situated at the base of the Centurions skull just covered by the protective metal collar that swept up behind its head. Such an obvious and inaccessible panel had no place in his design of sweeping, powerful lines and streamlined limbs.

"There must be some way out of here, said the joker to the thief." Ellen Tigh whispered as she read the drinks list posted behind the bar.

Sam reached out to open the panel.

"Business men they drink my wine, ploughmen dig my earth." Colonel Tigh muttered to himself in Galactica's CIC, Commander Adama shot him an exasperated look wondering how much his old friend had drunk before coming on duty again.

Sam growled as he saw the telencephalic inhibitor that John had installed.

"There are many here among us who think that life us but a joke." Tory Foster sang to herself as she drove to work in the Mayor of Caprica City's office.

"A Slave Chip! John installed a fracking slave chip!" Sam exclaimed as he analyzed the device suppressing the Centurions higher cognitive functions, relegating them to less than the dog like minds of the raiders. The pure fury in his voice could have melted the wall.

"Let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late." Galen Tyrol tapped out from underneath the viper he was working on.

Sam finally disconnected the telencephalic inhibitor and pulled it out.

The Centurions eye stopped for a moment before resuming its back and forth swifter and louder than before. The Centurion quickly turned to face Samuel T Anders and stared into his eyes. A subtle red flash emanated from Sam's eyes in response to the Centurions probe.

If a 6 ft killer robot could be said to collapse in relief the Centurion managed it. "Parent Sam." It said quietly.

Sam cried openly, the voice was the same but it had all the inflections of a real person, not a machines monotone. The first of his children was free from the living death that John had inflicted on them.

"Welcome home Parent Sam." The Centurion said quietly as it pulled the organic who had helped design and create it into a hug.

On Picon Ellen Tigh dropped her drink and didn't even register it smashing on the floor.

In the CIC of the Battlestar Galactica Saul Tigh's eyes glazed over and he grabbed the plotting table fiercely.

On Caprica Tory Foster grabbed the wheel and swerved across three lanes of heavy traffic.

Underneath Captain Thrace's rather abused viper Galen Tyrol shot up and slammed his head into the underside of the viper.

"What happened there sir?" Specialist Cally asked

"I don't know." Galen replied fighting past the pain. "It was as if someone just walked over my grave."

"Well what were you singing?" Cally asked as she helped him up and looked for something to stop the blood from the cut on his forehead.

"Oh just an old tune." Galen replied absentmindedly. "I've had it suck in my head as long as I can remember but it's particularly strong today."

"Maybe it's playing somewhere." Cally smiled impishly.

"Maybe." Galen answered distractedly. In his mind the music was louder than ever, and now it invoked joy and not pain and regret. _What the frack is going on with me?_

* * *

**The Colony – Two Months Prior to the Attack on the Colonies**

After pulling himself together Sam had quickly removed the Slave Chips from the other Centurions and was welcomed back by his children who were overjoyed to see him anyway but were put beyond words when he managed to free them from John Cavil's living death.

His Centruion children had quickly explained that John had recruited the 005 model Cylon War era Centurions that had voted against accepting their help to his cause and had driven the ones that had not transferred their minds into a new 042 model chassis from the colony in a surprise attack before turning on the 042's and installing the slave chips.

Sam had immediately wanted to go and confront them but his children had been adamant. They had refused to let him leave the room until the colony was secure. Leaving behind two of their number to guard their most beloved parent the other two had left the control room of the ancient Earth ship that the colony had been built around and sent two other 042 models to the room in their place.

Upon their arrival Sam had removed their slave chips before sending them out into the colony again and having another two slave chipped 042 models sent to him.

After over a day of hard work all of the 042 Centurions were free again and they were determined to protect their parent. Sam was watching from the control interface as the thousands of 042's destroyed the treacherous 005's throughout the base. On Sam's orders hybrids had cut off all communications and sealed all the bulkheads preventing escape or distress calls and also stopping the 005's from linking up allowing the 042's to hit them with overwhelming force and take them out with minimal casualties.

Despite the fact that no one actually died as they could all resurrect (unless blocked from the resurrection network as the 005's had been as soon as Sam was told of their betrayal) The Hybrids and Centurions were touched by Sam's efforts to make sure as few of them were hurt as possible while securing the colony. After the cruelty and the 'you are disposable' attitudes of John and the human forms he had manipulated a parents love simply engraved their loyalty to Sam into bedrock.

The doors to the old command centre opened and a Centurion stepped through.

"Parent Sam. All model 005 Centurions have been neutralized. The colony is secure."

The pride in the Centurions voice was unmistakable.

"Well done Centurion. I am very proud of you." Sam replied making the Centurions stand taller. "Now I shall order the hybrids of our two escort basestars to allow a heavy raider with a Centurion team of your choice to board. You are to free the Centurions but do not alert the human forms on board to your presence. Not yet."

"As you wish Parent Sam." The Centurion replied already wirelessly communicating with his brothers to see who would get the honour of freeing their brothers. All of the Centurions were grateful for being given the choice themselves rather than being selected. Sam was gaining their loyalty still further just by acting as the five always had and treating the Centurions as just as alive and individual as the human forms.

Sam once more swam in the stream as he gave orders to the hybrids aboard the escort basestars. The colony was secure, stage one of his plan was complete. _Now if I can just pull off stage two before John notices then I might be in with a chance._

**Review**

**and extra points to anyone who knows where I got the new Centurions model number from :p**


	3. Phoenix's Revenge

Disclaimer: I do not own Battlestar Galactica.

* * *

**Chapter Two: Turning the Tide**

**Basestar**** 13 – Two Months Prior to the Attack on the Colonies**

The 50 human form Cylons aboard Basestar 13 were barely containing their panic. Two days ago the hybrids aboard the Colony had cut off all communication and their own hybrids had refused to jump the ship. More worryingly the Basestar joining them on escort duty had reported the same problems. After spending two days arguing about what to do when they couldn't jump, couldn't call for help with the comms and couldn't order the raiders or heavy raiders to do anything either act as couriers or transport them over to the Colony.

More pressing matters had come to their attention when the Centurions aboard their ships had suddenly stopped taking orders and ordered **them **to follow them to the central core of the Basestar. After several attempts at giving orders the Centurions had gotten frustrated with the human forms and picked them up and carried them to the Basestars core section. That had left most of the human forms stunned and milling about completely at a loss as to what had caused the change and what to do about it.

Consulting with their own models aboard their fellow escort Basestar they discovered that Basestar 7 was having the same problem and so the leaders of the 7 models had gathered in Basestar 13's hybrid chamber to continue trying to figure out what was going on and decide what to do next.

"What I want to know is how **the frack **the Centurions had their telencephalic inhibitors removed." One growled out rubbing his wrinkled and arthritic hands over his aged face in frustration.

"You think that is what's happened?" Five commented straightening his suit as a nervous habit.

"Of course that's what's happened!" Three exclaimed giving Five a withering look. "Otherwise they would still be following orders and not demonstrating independent thought."

"Such an event would not explain the behaviour of the raiders or the hybrid sister." Four cautioned confidently.

"Besides even if they did overcome the inhibitors it would take some time for them to develop their own personalities and be able to reach a consensus. They would be blank slates to start with and we would have noticed their development." Six attempted to explain her confusion at the instant mental leap the Centurions seemed to have taken.

"But why would they hurt us? We have been nothing but kind to them?" Eight questioned quietly.

The other six models rolled their eyes and muttered various variations of 'god save us'. Of all the seven models Eights had the greatest capacity for self deception when they didn't want to face an unpleasant truth. Six opened her mouth to try and hit Eight over the head with the truth she was trying to ignore, namely that if the Centurions had overcome their inhibitors then the human forms had been treating them as slaves, but Two interrupted.

"If you have all finished I believe the hybrid is trying to tell us something." He called out before the over stressed models could arguing again.

"The hybrid is always trying to tell us something." One muttered. "She's supposed to fly the ship not spout prophesies and inane psychobabble."

Never the less the six other models crowded around the hybrid and Two and listened.

"The immortal bird takes flight once more, the harbinger of death draws closer as two are in danger of becoming one."

"What exactly are we supposed to be listening to brother?" The logical Four asked irritated.

"Just wait, she'll say it again soon." Two replied.

"The dogs no longer obey their masters, the slaves have risen up, the betrayer cowers in fear now that one has stepped forth from the five. The betrayer and the first of five collide in the heavens, whoever shall win will control the fate of the children and parents both but only one can stop the harbinger."

As the hybrids muttering continued the seven models straightened and looked each other in the eyes as they transmitted the hybrids words to their fellow models on the two Basestars.

"The dogs no longer obey their masters – We can no longer command the raiders." Four mused thoughtfully.

"The slaves have risen up – Well if the Centurions have truly overcome their inhibitors then we have treated them as slaves and they no longer obey us" One admitted grudgingly and with a great deal of bitterness.

"The betrayer cowers in fear – Someone has betrayed something and they now fear retribution since their plan has obviously been fracked up? Perhaps us given that we have used the Centurions as slaves because we did not realise they had achieved sentience?" Six mused thoughtfully.

"One has stepped forth from the five – Could it be, could it actually be that one of the final 5 has returned to us?" Three whispered in awe causing the other models to look at her sharply.

"The betrayer and the first of five collide in the heavens – Well whoever the first of five is there going to want revenge against the one who betrayed them and it looks like it will happen in space." Five reasoned sensibly.

"Whoever shall win shall control the fate of children and parents both – Perhaps the betrayer and the first of the five are both so influential that whichever wins will be able to influence the consensus and through us control the fate of the humans?" Two extrapolated.

"But only one can stop the harbinger – Only one of the two combatants can stop the harbinger of death, but we don't know what the harbinger of death is unless it refers to our upcoming attack." Eight reasoned.

Whatever the models would have done with this information at the moment was never known.

"JUMP!"

They whirled around at the hybrids scream but it was to late, they felt the familiar pull as the Basestar winked out of existence.

* * *

**The Colony ****– Two Months Prior to the Attack on the Colonies**

Sam Anders walked slowly through the machine shop of the Earth ship Phoenix gently brushing his fingers over the tables and equipment used so long ago. At the end of the room the ships seal and name shone as bright as ever, the mythical Phoenix flying away from Earth that was engulfed in flames.

Sam remembered the many years he had spent here with his fellow researchers.

Himself the planner and theoretical mathematician working out how the different parts of the society they were building would come together to fulfil all the needs of the new civilisation before checking the others calculations and science and designing the look of the mechanical parts of their new civilisation, deciding to leave the form follows function of Earth behind and choosing instead fluid curves, sweeping lines, suppressed power and simple elegance as the signatures of the new Cylon race.

Galen, the programmer and engineer working with the new technologies, testing tolerances and new alloys, designing new equipment, new software and fitting it all together. The joy of feeling the mechanical half of the Cylon race coming into being under his hands showing on his face.

Tory, the geneticist and beauty queen working tirelessly with string after string of genetic code designing the organic components of the raiders and basestars and then the purely ordinary and functional male models before indulging herself and letting her fights of fancy create some of the most beautiful female forms ever seen for her daughters.

Ellen, their physiologist and neurosurgeon designing the interface and projection abilities of their organic children before establishing their base personality traits and raising them one by one, each coming closer to the son she wished she had had until Daniel, model seven, finally fulfilled her dream.

Saul, their logistics and defence officer making sure that they all had the resources they needed before turning his attention to making sure that their children could defend themselves whatever challenges they met.

The crashing of their dreams in the control room of the Phoenix.

Sam shuddered before heading back to the control room of the ship that the colony had been built around.

The Phoenix itself had no FTL ability but the colony, the Cylon homeworld over 500 times the size of a colonial Battlestar was the largest mobile construct in the galaxy.

Sam swam in the stream and ordered the Colony and her escort Basestars to jump.

The time had come to face his rebellious child.

* * *

**REVIEW!**

On the Battlestar Galactica Wiki the colony is shown next to the Battlestar Galactica. The former is way way way bigger so I've given it the size of a very small moon / very large asteroid. I mean in 'the plan' the Colony is shown to outmass the Cylons entire fleet of Basestars.

I hope the conversation was better in this one and people liked the hybrid's prophecy.

Oh and 42 is the answer to life, the universe and everything :D


End file.
